Reader discretion is advised

Her red cleaned SLS AMG Gullwing sat neatly on her freshly mowed lawn as I pulled up the driveway. I felt a little embarrassed given my dusty Cayman from the detour. Entebbe highway was blocked for presidents and delegates coming to attend the swearing in.

The inapposite feeling was distracted by the architectural marvel she called home. Built on 6 acres by an Austrian architect, her Vienna inspired home was the most glorious sight in her estate. It uttered class and extreme luxury.

I noticed the lights were off but a dim light peered through her obviously expensive living room curtains.

I parked the Porsche next to the fountain, right in front of the flight of stairs leading to the main door. She had seen me come in, I noticed multiple security cameras the moment her guards let me in at the gate. I, however maintained the suaveness I’d earlier planned to perform, hence I locked with the key. The alarm doesn’t scream stealth – no pun intended.

At the top of the stairs, I did not have to knock. Either she had on purpose left the door ajar or she came in in a hurry and did not fully shut the door. It must have been on purpose, otherwise her butler whom we all thought she didn’t need would have noticed. Where was he tonight?

I pushed the door, walked in and directly saw her standing by the bar wrapped in a bathrobe next to a clustering of candles. The glare from the candle light gave the room an intimate scene. She well-nigh complimented the scene when my mind fancied her with nothing underneath the robe.

“Shut the door,” she said. I flicked out of the fantasy and shut the door. Maintaining the suavity moving towards her I said, “Run out of business suits?” “Why?’ she oddly exclaimed. “You look sultrily different from how I usually find you, which is ironic because of the bathrobe,” I answered.

“Is that a bad thing?” she consciously asked.

“No. Not at all. I am just curious that’s all,” I replied reaching for the glass of whisky she had poured me.

“Thank you,” “don’t thank me yet,” she said leading me to the couch. “Yet?” I wondered loud enough for her to hear. “With us it’s always business. Tonight! We fly for pleasure,” she seductively replied biting her lower lip and patting next to her on the couch to signal “come sit here.”

I was charmed. On to that spot on the couch I placed my khaki trousers.

Before I could even settle on the couch she got up, took my whisky glass from my hand and placed it on the coffee table right next to hers. Then she slowly enough to arouse brutal lust moved swaying her gorgeous ass in my face, sat in the couch across mine and began to slowly strip her robe uncovering her big bosom.

I was nervous, but even more, I was deeply intrigued. China even in her business suits, her African curves made room. I, sure enough wanted to see them with no concealment.

Incautiously I stood up, made my way to her now in nothing but black lingerie… and the rest is a tale of my adventure; A Night in China.

3 thoughts on “A NIGHT IN CHINA

  1. Goodness gracious!!! Very interesting. Never judge a book or article by its title. You don’t want to know what i was thinking. I am thrilled. Great work!


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